|Daddy Walter and Charlotte in the harbour|
I went shopping one evening when Charlotte was a little pass two years old. When I came home my husband Walter was sitting on the couch watching tv, Charlotte was sleeping, the dog was still alive and everything seemed in order. Good job hubby, good job.
"How was your night" I ask. He shrugged and said "It was fine." Ok, unadventurous night it is. A little while later I go into the bathroom. Charlottes sleeper was soaking in the sink. I inquired as to why it was doing so.
"Well," Walter started. "I wanted to put Charlotte in the bath, I took off her clothes while waiting for the water to run and while she was naked she decided to poop. Everywhere."
So I will point out to people that Walter's reaction to all things poop is utter disgust. Weird considering what most men accomplish in the washrooms themselves.
"So I put her in the tub so she wouldn't run around and do it again, and then I threw up in the toilet, then the *&@%# dog came in and ate it, so I threw up again and threw a towel at him to leave, all while Charlotte sat in it in the tub."
I sat there in utter amazement. How the hell could a chain of events happen like that to him, and when asked how his night was he said "fine". And he never said a word until I inquired about it.
Then I started to laugh because honestly it was fricken funny! (Only because it was him and not me) I will never let him forget it. (Such as putting out there forever on a blog).
So lesson in life, "fine" may mean you were up shit creek, with a toddler, a toilet and a dog!